X Thorium Maze
by JrOeKnEeRe
Summary: The reek of extracted flesh, the warmth of his hand guiding us to the entrance, the thick veil of where time had stopped. This wasn't just about John's existence. The T800 had destroyed & saved his life for years. It designed mine from the beginning. OC


**.**

**X Thorium Maze**

Terminator Salvation

John Connor . Marcus Wright

**1**

**It's Worst**

Rapid plummet, the rope nearly ripping the already tattered armor. A material already so thin. Bullets, blades, lasers, flames, all weapons were easily drawn to its vulnerability. This held no concern. The hard sound of friction echoed, faster and faster the rope zoomed between the harness and armor. And then a hard pull left any breathing irrelevant. Slapped the cold dirt with both palms. Another set of thick boots hit just as heavy to the right a few moments after. They released the buckle from the harness and therefore dropped the attached: me.

"Didn't I say to wait until I went first?"

"Yes," the ground was moist. Various green lights lit the area poorly. His flashlight gleamed directly. "But you knew I wasn't going to, otherwise you wouldn't have strapped me in so tight. Will you lower your light?"

"Connor!" the commanding officer met the ground as well. "We're limited on time. Let's move!"

John readjusted his gun, snapping on the light, before leaning down but I had already stood with the tunnel in sight. Something wasn't right. He nudged my shoulder, meaning he didn't want me behind rather in front where he could have control. There was a distinct smell. Of flesh and metal. No blood though. Bodies lay on operating tables, skeletal structures drained of any fluids. Skin and bone. The machines have been working hard.

"What is this?" a young soldier passed by, his hand covering his mouth to prevent bile evac.

Someone answered with another question but words were no longer comprehensible. A body, unlike any other here, lay with his eyes wide open. Dull cerulean staring into blackness. Dust wasn't settled on top, insects were nowhere near, nothing relating to human correspondence was linked. Unlike anything I've ever encountered or synced. And there, inside his sternum, a faint light rolled beneath in waves. Its hue held a metallic tinge, the coloration of an element close to radium.

John stood near, waiting for the rest of the men at standpoint before an order's given to proceed. Looking over every detail of the area, taking mental notes for his own purposes. He didn't see the light. Did no one else notice? He was the closest and yet the brighter it became, the less he was aware.

The way it glowed seemed to suggest its increase in radioactivity. The machines may have implanted the chemical imbalance. If this was true, the underground bunk could be unstable. A simple touch would increase our chances to get away in time.

Index finger hovered above, waiting. Protective upgrades were being transferred in lightning matrices, the instant I felt the confirmation, contact was made. And should have never been.

.

"Hey," John pulled sternly. "What are you doing?" and didn't wait for an answer, merely kept our positions close and proceeded forward. "Do you realize how long you were here?" The other men had already entered the new territory.

"What do you mean?"

"Just try to stay close. I have something to show you. It's what we've been waiting for."

_Memory had been stopped for a duration of ten minutes._ This can't be right. I was only standing there for less than a minute. "John-"

A hand, resembling claws, extended forward and snatched onto whatever was near. But John took charge before he could. He grabbed tight, pulled and placed himself in my position just as fast. His gun pointed towards an elderly man, tongue cut out and teeth no longer present. I nearly lowered his weapon myself but he nodded, it was under his control.

So many human prisoners, unable to scream for help or do anything for their lives. Trapped in cages. And just beyond their cells were three translucent computers, the middle screen frozen on a specific page.

There it is. John was right, we've been waiting for this. He stood very still, knowing all too well what was going to happen the moment the sync began. The soldiers were busy scoping the area before considering an extraction for the prisoners.

We looked to each other. He leaned in close, concealing further actions from those around. "Go ahead."

I already was. Hand spread wide across the screen, fingers covering the Terminator's body diagram, mind scanning through every input and output, every new and old detail. Until finally integrating the hidden codes and finding the personal connection.

The machine's reproductive system has been made with an even more advanced medical relation. The sperm count has increased ten times more. Yet still, the female target of this new T800's conceptive mission remains the same: her. Leona Maze. My mother.

The computer's emergency backup will know in a few seconds, sensing the intrusion. But I need to know more. Yet wasn't given the chance. John snatched my hand before SkyNet could be warned. Red orbs dissolved deep into the encoded green irises. Such a small amount of time and yet all the right data was received. The Terminator's original mission is exactly as it should be but the outcome has drastically changed. If this new model is sent to the past, my mother would not only be at risk for miscarriage but implanting another fetus in her womb would be extremely high. The zygote will split and form two or more embryos along with hundreds of perilous consequences for my mother and the original fetus. For me.

"Maze! Connor! Stop loitering, do not make this personal. Our men up top aren't answering, go to them now."

John replied for us while the information was still encrypting, leaving everything else in an offline haze. I was leaning deep into him, back to his front. But soon the warmth of his hand was guiding us to the entrance, the reek of extracted flesh seemed to increase even more and the short breeze came fast. And now the sight of our squad being completely wiped out was just as clear.

A massive attack.

Why hadn't I known this? I should have been aware but could deem nothing. Unless it occurred during the time lapse. John pressed the gun harder into his shoulder, roaming his gaze from the scene before us to every adjusted expression of mine.

"They didn't have time to warn us-" he concluded only half of what I could. But then he saw then I saw. The helicopter. It was still in tact.


End file.
